


What We Do in the Confines of Our Offices

by MeinNameIstJette



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cor finally gets the D, Desks are made for sex right, M/M, Office sex after hours, Titus is more than happy to give Cor the D, Titus is on his knees, relationships are only about sex am I right or am I right, the marshal knows how to mewl, what?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 04:18:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19760443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeinNameIstJette/pseuds/MeinNameIstJette
Summary: The Captain and Marshal try to mask their growing feelings with frivolous sex.It's not working very well.





	What We Do in the Confines of Our Offices

**Author's Note:**

> Once again unedited. :( Sorry guys.

The Citadel was nearly empty for the night -- more specifically that of the Kingsglaive wing, bar two people. One of whom rightly belonged in that wing and the second one a desired guest. 

Said guest was currently pressed firmly against the wall of Titus’ office, lips locked in a heated and hungry kiss with the Captain. The man’s arms were wrapped tightly around broad shoulders.

There’s a pause. 

Both their foreheads press together as they take a moment to catch their breath. 

Titus’ hands slide down the man’s sides, feeling the strength underneath the man’s clothes as he presses him more firmly against the wall. This elicits a pleased groan which is soon muffled by Titus’ lips stealing another hungry kiss. 

The Captain’s hands rest on his guests’ hips before slide further down, grasping under strong thighs, and without warning heaving the man up in his arms. This earns Titus a surprised gasp which has him smirking lightly as he carries his guest so he can set him down atop his desk. 

Gods. 

He wanted to fuck this man over and across his desk. 

Titus’ guest smirks lazily and it only has Titus leaning forward and teasing the man’s bottom lip between his teeth. He can feel hands slip under his shirt, grasping the hem of it, and pulling it up. He’s glad he had the foresight to undress from the majority of his complicated uniform or getting undress would become more of a workout than either of them cared to partake in at the moment. 

Titus does pull back so he can pull his shirt over his head and discard it somewhere on the floor. He can already feel hands sliding up his stomach, over his pecks, and over his shoulders, only to wrap around them and pull him closer. The action earns his guest a trembled exhale from Titus which then has the man’s lips pressing against the side of Titus’ neck as he presses open-mouthed and hot kisses along it. 

This has the Captain tilting his head to the side, eyes slipping shut as he focuses on that mouth. He can also feel calloused hands running over the back of his shoulders and back as legs cross around Titus’ hips to tug him even closer. 

“Gods, your fucking shoulders, Captain.” The man murmurs huskily. 

“Your thighs, Marshal.” Titus murmurs back, lip curling up in an easy smirk. His hands are sliding up and down his guests’ thighs worshippingly. 

Those strong thighs unwind from around Titus hips at the same time as the man’s arms, the Marshal’s arms. He stares as Cor pulls off his own shirt and then leans back against Titus’ desk. 

“What are you waiting for? Undress me.” 

Titus snorts as he pulls back just enough to let his mouth nip at the skin just above Cor’s belt waistline. His hands are slowly working the belt undone as he drags his lips and hot breath over the line of Cor’s abs. 

Titus can’t see it but Cor’s head falls back as he lets out a hitched gasp. He can already feel the Marshal through his trousers and it had Titus groaning against Cor’s skin. One hand does find its way into Titus’ short hair as it tangles into it and grasps onto it loosely. When Titus’ lips make it to Cor’s nipple, the grip in his hair tightens and he can feel the Marshal arch into his mouth. 

Belt unbuckled. trousers open. Titus reaches under the fabric of Cor’s undergarments to pull his hardened length out as he strokes it lazily. 

“Gods…” Cor exhales and glances up from his spot teasing Cor’s other nipple as the man drops his head back. 

Titus smirks.

He drags his lips back down the strong body to trail his tongue from the base of Cor’s cock up to the tip. His brow arches as he glances up to meet Cor’s gaze. The man’s cheeks flushed and looking gorgeous nearly naked on his desk. 

Titus wraps his lips around the head of Cor’s delectable cock as he sucks lightly around it, his tongue swirling around it before he starts to take more of him into his mouth, and subsequently down his throat. 

Cor’s hips lift from the desk which Titus quickly remedies as he pins them down hard. The strength in his hold earns a low moan from the man under him. This also gives him the time to remind himself to breathe out of his nostrils as he hollows out his cheeks for what was to come. 

Titus inhales and then exhales before glancing up as he starts to bob up and down Cor’s length. The hand in his hair tightens even more -- a pain that Titus actually liked. His eyes flick up as he watches the way Cor’s chest rises and falls, the man’s parted lips and the way he looked, eyes firmly shut. 

It really was amazing how attractive Titus found Cor. Almost unjustly so. 

He takes his time pulling off of Cor’s cock and does so with a lewd slurp, panting harshly the moment his mouth becomes unoccupied.   
This earns Titus a sharply inhaled breath of Cor that clearly spelt out his displeasure at leaving him close to the brink. That’s what he wanted. 

His hands slide down Cor’s thighs and then back up to slip his fingers under the loose waistband of the Marshal’s trousers. He moves to stand as he starts tugging them down, just in time to catch Cor’s lips in a heated kiss. 

The man’s arms wrap back around Titus’ shoulders and he can feel Cor lift his hips so he has an easier time disrobing him completely. Cor ends up kicking the offending fabric off before his legs are wrapping around Titus' hips and drawing him closer. 

“No…” Titus breathes out against Cor’s lips which has the man paused in his attempt to get him closer. “I’m going to fuck you from behind.”

Cor’s breath hitches in return and he’s smirking lazily against Titus’ lips. “Alright.” 

Titus nips hungrily at Cor’s lips before he’s pulling away and dragging Cor off of his desk. The man follows without complaint and then immediately turns around. Titus hand is sliding up Cor’s spine as he pushes him down so the Marshal has to rest his forearms on the hard wood. 

He watches as Cor spreads his thighs and the sight of the naked and vulnerable Marshal bent over his desk evokes a louder almost possessive growl from him. Titus can see Cor’s skin break out in Chocobo bumps which has him fishing the lube out of his pocket and setting it next to Cor’s left side on the desk. 

Titus growls a second time as he dips down and drags his lips up Cor’s spine only to nip at his shoulder and press hot kisses along the back of Cor’s ear. It has the man shivering and even more so when the unmistakable sound of Titus’ belt can be heard as he works it open. 

“Fuck me, Captain…” Cor gets out sounding breathless, just the way Titus liked him to sound. 

“Patience, Marshal. I still need to prep you.” 

He lets out a throaty chuckle as he reaches for the lube, flicking it open, and pouring it onto his fingers. Cor’s head hangs down and he can’t help but nuzzle along Cor’s shoulder as he presses the first finger into the man. 

Titus can feel the shift in Cor’s stance as he pushes into it, eagerly. This has him chuckling again as he presses a second finger in, pressing them in deep before he starts thrusting them with more meaning. 

Cor groans as Titus pulls back and slides his free hand up Cor’s spine to let it rest against the back of his neck, almost as if he were holding the man in place. 

“Titus, please….” Cor almost, almost, whines. 

Titus doesn’t respond but he presses a third finger in, hooks them, and begins thrusting with a little more vigour. That seems to catch Cor off guard because he chokes on his moan. This seems to amuse Titus and he continues for perhaps a little too long. 

It’s only Cor slamming his fist down on the desk that has him stilling completely, that quiet laugh barely escaping past his lips. 

“Fuck me, for Astral’s sake, fuck me already!” Cor growls voice thin and trembling. 

Titus tsks Cor which has the man shooting a glare over his shoulder at the Captain. 

Fingers slide out which seem to earn Titus a shudder from his guest before he’s pouring lube onto his hand to lather over his painfully hard cock. It would be a relief to feel Cor’s tight heat. 

His eyes drift closed and his lips part to let out a shuddered breath as he strokes himself slowly. This time, he doesn’t make Cor wait too long, as he aligns himself and presses the head of his cock into Cor. 

Titus watches as Cor’s back arches up but misses the way the Marshal grips the end of Titus’ desk until his knuckles go white. Cor lets out a low please and elongated moan as if Titus had given him everything he had ever wanted in that want push in. It’s enough incentive for the Captain to roll his hips forward until he’s pressed as deep as he can in this position. 

Cor’s breath hitches, body taut from being filled, and Titus wishes he can immortalize this moment.

There would be more occasions. 

He’s sliding his hand back up Cor’s spine, settling it back against the back of Cor’s neck. Titus adjusts his stance and then when his feet are planted firmly on the ground, he pulls out to the tip and slams in. 

Cor yowls as the thrust nearly jars him forward and then Titus is setting a relentless pace. 

The office fills with the sound of both of their panting and groaning. Cor, who was clearly already on the cusp of orgasm, has a hard time holding onto in hopes of enjoying the pleasure for just a little longer. 

Titus feels it before he can hear Cor. The man tightens around him, almost too tight which has Titus biting back a loud moan, as he watches the way Cor’s flush pools around the back of his neck. 

He shudders violently, gasping and barely able to cry out as he comes over the top of Titus’ desk. Cor goes limp, almost sagging against the desk, arms trembling to keep him up as he pants harshly. 

However, Titus isn’t quite there and he keeps thrusting into Cor’s pliant body. This seems to earn Titus an almost mewl, which catches the Captain off guard. He keeps pounding into the Marshal until he can’t anymore and he comes hard, deep inside the man, body going rigid and tight before relaxing as he lets his release take hold of him. 

His grip on Cor’s left hip loosens and the hand on his neck falls away to rest on the desk beside the Marshal. Titus looms forward and presses his forehead against the back of Cor’s damp hair as he tries to catch his breath and enjoys the last few minutes inside the man before he pulls his limp cock out. 

“Shit…” Titus exhales which has Cor laughing softly. 

“Have fun cleaning your desk.” Cor gets out his panting subsiding a little. 

Titus rolls his eyes as he slowly straightens so he can tuck himself in his trousers. “Have fun walking tomorrow.” 

That seems to have the Marshal laughing a little louder. “Touche.” 

Titus smiles and he waits for Cor to stand before he’s turning the man around and kissing him, this time a slower and softer kiss. 

They had both entered into something that had quickly become more complicated than it should have been.


End file.
